


Bertie Bott's Beans

by jeleania



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF!Harry, Fluff and Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-25 18:29:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6205915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeleania/pseuds/jeleania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>tales of Harry Potter and the moments of his life. canon divergences, AUs, and more are explored.</p><p>using prompts from the harry100 community</p><p>current - bait the trap and catch the prey</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not A Fairy Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry didn't feel like much of a hero. But, maybe he could become one...

* * *

 

 

Despite what everyone said, he didn't feel like a hero.

 

In the fiction books Harry had read, tucked away in a corner of the primary school library, heroes were a breed unto themselves. They were the knights in shining armor riding up to save the kingdom, or the lucky peasant boy who found the magic sword, or even the clever rogue that stumbled upon the mystical item to defeat the enemy. Heroes married the princess and did a lot of good deeds and were unaffected by their trials save some gained maturity.

 

Harry had no armor, just an invisibility cloak and old clothes. Perhaps he could get some dragon hide battle robes or see if the basilisk skin was good for anything, but it didn't really matter now.

 

There was a sword and he guessed the basilisk venom or whatnot made it magical. He couldn't remember any peasant boys having their arm bitten by a giant snake though.

 

Mystical items - there had been too many to count. Unfortunately, among the ones to defeat the enemy, there had been one lodged in his scar that took his death to destroy.

 

Marry a princess? To be honest, Harry was more interested in a prince. Merlin knew how his friends would react to that, nevermind the public or Molly and Ginny.

 

Good deeds? He'd used forbidden spells and extortion and committed a number of other crimes, even killed some people, and he didn't feel much remorse for those actions.

 

Unaffected by the trials save maturity? Nightmares and paranoia and even anxiety attacks were a near daily reminder that he very much was not okay.

 

A hero? No, Harry didn't feel much like one.

 

He was just a person who had been dragged in dangerous situations where he had made the choice to stand up for what he believed in rather than turn away from injustice. If he had just walked away, Harry never would have been able to live with himself, or so he liked to think. Though he would admit, there was a bit of Avenger in him of the deaths of his parents and his first secret boyfriend Cedric and Sirius, but he guessed it had also been so other people wouldn't lose loved ones like he had.

 

Harry didn't think of himself as a hero. Merely a person who tried to do the right thing.

 

But maybe, just maybe, he could be an everyday kind of hero to Teddy and any future children Harry had. By doing his hardest to be a good parent to them.

 

He figured that was the kind of hero he wouldn't mind being.

 

His son Teddy's hero.

 

His future children's hero.

 

(Though he still had no clue where to find the other parent.)

 

Yeah, he could seek to be that.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt - #001 hero


	2. Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bait the trap and catch the prey

* * *

 

 

The night was dark, no moon and only the stars to give feeble light. Mind, there were plenty of them out here in the middle of the wilderness, no smog or light pollution to hide them. Still, the wizard ghosting through the forest was glad for his animagus form and being able to shift his eyes somewhat while still in human form.

Nineteen year old Harry Potter slinked between the trees, careful of forest debris underfoot waiting to trip him or give away his position. He was a member of the DMLE's latest task-force, more an outside consultant than actually part of the Ministry. A position in Auror training was available to him, but the Man-Who-Conquered (really, couldn't the public stop giving him stupid hyphenated titles?!) wasn't sure yet if he wanted to tie himself down like that.

 

But this task-force and their goal - oh, he could get behind that. And no one even tried to protest him joining. The public was downright pleased and felt safer for it. His fellow members respected his skills, even if he had to prove himself to some of them with a few duels among comrades and foes. And what did this task-force strive to do, you ask?

 

Hunt down the reminding Death Eaters.

 

And his current prey - oh, this one was special. He was doing this one solo, mostly, with a back-up team waiting far behind him at base camp. Because this one was personal.

 

He wasn't going to get overconfident like some had. No, he was going in ready. Footsteps silenced, form disillusioned, scent hidden, and half a dozen other spells to obscure his person all tucked under a gossamer veil that masked his magic aura.

 

He felt like a wildcat, stalking its prey.

 

His lips curled in a dark smirk - what an apt description.

 

Ahead, a clearing opened in the forest. Within it scurried a single man, fidgeting and pacing as he waited for the person who had contacted him for a meeting. A bit of Legimens and Polyjuice and Imperius - it had been easy to use one of those they'd already captured to be the pawn who placed the cheese in the trap.

 

His target was ready to be snatched up. Nervous, pathetic, weak-willed - qualities that had made others underestimate him again and again, allowing him to wiggle his way of their grasp and escape.

 

Not this time.

 

On silent feet, he circled the area, laying out small pre-made lodestones to anchor the runes he drew into the air behind the cover of helpful trees. Groundwork was laid and layered - anti-apparation, anti-portkey, anti-animagus.

 

Thank Merlin for Hermione and self study - he'd been pleased to find a talent all his own in the extremely useful subject he'd poked his nose on a bored whim.

 

A breath, focus, gather the magic, touch-twist-pull, activate - the wards r

o

se and t

ook

hold, glowing strong in his bespelled Mage Sight as he checked them for weak spots. No little holes for a sneaky rodent to slip through. It would take a hell of lot of power to tear these down - overkill, perhaps, but he wasn't taking any chances. 

 

Stepping through the web of power and pausing in a shadow, he aimed. Wand flick

ed

out, spells flying silent and fast - pertify, binding, disarm. Classic and so very useful. A few more summon prank products that could spread confusion and aid escape, portkeys that will be traced, and a few hidden blades that gleam purple with poison. Only once satisfied that the scumbag had no way to attack him or get free or even wiggle a finger did he step into the clearing.

 

Idly dropping stealth spells no longer needed, he sent out a silen

t

signal for his team to approach.

 

Harry stalked forward, leaning over to catch the trapped man's terrified eyes. He's sure the smile curling his lips was dark and full of promise of suffering as he drawled,

 

"Hello, Peter. We've some unfinished business."

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt - # 255 unfinished business


End file.
